


A Dream Worth

by Ginger Jam (skylite), skylite



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-01-18
Updated: 2001-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylite/pseuds/Ginger%20Jam, https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylite/pseuds/skylite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecilia Reyes, the mutant who never wanted the power, nor to join the X-Men, is forced to reflect on how her denial has affected those around her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dream Worth

**Author's Note:**

> Contains spoilers for UNCANNY X-MEN #390 (2001)
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The characters herein are all the property of Marvel  
> Comics/Entertainment and are used without permission and not for profit. No  
> profit is made by the author for writing nor any archivist(s) for archiving  
> the story.

Thomas Proudstar  
Alexander Summers  
Joseph Michael Xavier  
Illyana Nikoleivna Rasputina  
Piotr Nikoleivich Rasputin

The list is longer than that, of course. Those are just the few I, the newbie, can remember. And the most recent name was added only yesterday. A kid, only slightly younger than I am.

A kid who died for what he believed in. For love. For other deaths to have not been in vain. 

For a dream.

While I goddamn WATCHED!

I barely knew Pete. Nowhere near as well as the others. And I can't stop crying. 

It's not like I've never lost a patient before. I'm a doctor. It comes with the territory. He wasn't even on my table, under my knife. So why can't I stop crying?

Because I know how he died -- in an instant of unspeakable pain. With thoughts of his baby sister, Moira MacTaggart, Hank McCoy, and the world -- not for himself. Altruistic euthanasia. There's a pair of words I never thought I'd have to use together.

Worse, I'm here now with Hank McCoy, having to do the autopsy. There's no next of kin to notify. His parents are dead. His baby sister is dead. And the last anyone saw of his brother was a poof of teleportation out of Egypt. No blood kin to mourn his passing or grieve his brave sacrifice.

Hank's been silent, rather than his usual vociferous self. Damn -- his vocab's rubbing off on me. He feels guilty of course for not having foreseen this. For not having been able to see it coming. 

Neither did Charles, and he's kicking himself harder. The X-Men have so few victories that even one that was incomplete was cause to celebrate. He was out on the blacktop playing pickup b-ball with the Cajun and the Canadian -- he didn't expect to have reason to use his telepathy to read the thoughts of one of his own.

And I was the only other one there. I was so scared of being a mutant. So self-loathing. I didn't think to call out. Charles could've stopped Pete with a *thought*, damn it, and it never occurred to me to open my mind and yell for the Professor. I was sure I could talk him out of it. Sure I could goad him into being angry and taking a swing -- that my stupid goddamn forcefield could take the hit, and he'd feel so bad for striking at a weak, defense-powered woman that he'd stop reaching for the hypo.

Instead, he outfoxed me. He saw through me. Gassed me with something that passed straight through my forcefield. I went down. 

The other X-Men had training. They could've held their breaths, disarmed him, *something*. Not Cecilia. Cecilia had to try and handle it like a normal human. 

Time to face the facts, chica.

You're not normal, and if you'd accepted that -- and that the people in this house aren't either -- you might've saved him.

Yeah, okay, his death has brought about the final sequence of events needed for Moira and Hank's Legacy Virus cure to truly become the lifesaver the world over -- and that's nice. It's good. 

And I still can't stop crying, and my scalpel hand shakes, and I have to let Hank finish the autopsy.

"Cecilia," he tells me, "You can't keep blaming yourself. It was his choice. He made it himself, made sure you could not have influenced it in any way. You must believe that."

"I know," I answer. "And for his death to mean something, the cure has to get out there."

"It already is," Hank assures me. "It went airborne on his last breath." Hank's smiling, but his eyes are too bright, and his voice has a quaver in it. "Within 72 hours it should have hit the jetstream and already be on its way worldwide." His strong hands frame my shoulders and pull me close. "Stop blaming yourself, Celia. Please. Piotr wouldn't have wanted that."

"Es verdad," I murmur, touching Pete's shoulder. His baby face even in death is a serene smile. Like it was just a stroll to the corner, rather than the last thing he ever did. "Sorry, Peter."

My name is Cecilia Reyes, and I am a mutant.

Piotr Nikoleivich Rasputin died for a dream. 

It's time I began to live for it.

\--fin--


End file.
